


Headlights

by cafephan



Series: 'Up At Night' albumfic [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: ( warnings: mention of homophobia and alcohol ), AU, Existentialism, Hitchhiker Phil, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 15:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafephan/pseuds/cafephan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Howell feels like he is anything but in control of his life. So one night, he decides to change that, starting with picking up a hitchhiker named Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headlights

This fic is the second in the series of the albumfic I’m writing for Cimorelli’s new album _‘Up At Night’_!!

( All of the songfics in the series/albumfic will be individual oneshots and not connected with each other in any way unless stated otherwise )

You can listen to the album on Spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/album/4pv75GYzV5YkC4xazXHXOM) to get an idea of what fics to expect in the future!

As you probably guessed from the title, this is to the song _‘Headlights’_ from the album, and I hope you enjoy this and the rest of the series!!

( **YouTube link to the official music video _[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apgN9TaEP0U) _ in case Spotify isn’t your biz**)

_The series so far:[Easy To Forget Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7057693) /_

* * *

Time was a concept Dan Howell never appreciated. Childhood and most teenage years went by in a breeze, but as a twenty-something in dire need of a life revamp, time was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

It seemed only yesterday that he dropped out of university, a nineteen year old with the world against him, a lot to prove. Now, a twenty-five year old with little to his name, barely enough to get by, general life fuck-up. Everything just seemed so insignificant. Quite symbolic, if he thought about it long enough.

He never felt in control of anything in his life, as if some form of ultimate power had complete control without his permission, everything seemed mapped out for him, like some kind of fucked up game.

So one night he just drove.

Left his phone on the kitchen counter, stuffed a few pound notes into his pocket, grabbed his keys and drove. It felt like it was the first time he was doing something for himself, it felt liberating.

The dark of night tried to intimidate him into turning back around, every lamppost sporting a broken or burned out bulb. The autumn winds howled and clawed against the peeling paintwork of his ancient car, and the exhaust struggled to keep up.

His headlights were bright, newly replaced thanks to his grandfather the week before, and were guiding his way, to a destination he didn’t know nor care. The road was long and winding, he was far from the little town and his shoddy little flat. It was thrilling more than anything else.

About thirty minutes in, he took a risk. His hands were shaking slightly, one gripped the steering wheel as the other unlocked the car. All he could see of the stranger was the striking height, not much shorter than himself, and that was about it, shielded by the darkness.

The back door on the passenger side opened first, and a battered old guitar case was thrown onto the worn fabric interior.

Dan’s heart was pounding as the back door closed and the passenger one opened, and the stranger slipped into the seat beside him.

“Thank you for stopping,” he thanked Dan with a small smile, and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he did so.

It took Dan a second to take everything in, everything the guy was. It didn’t seem right to call him beautiful, as if the word simply didn’t do him justice, never mind it being far too quick to have such an opinion. Dan didn’t live in a fairytale. His hair was strikingly similar to Dan’s, and his voice had a slight northern undertone to it. Even through the shitty light from inside the car, Dan could see that the guy’s eyes were something new all on their own. A whole other word he couldn’t invent.

“It’s okay” Dan replied (eventually), and swallowed back any anxieties he had about the decision. Even though the guy could be a serial killer, or anything else of the calibre, Dan had a gut feeling that he wouldn’t have to worry. Though maybe that was due to the guy’s choice of haircut. And the fact he tripped getting into the car.

“I’m Phil, by the way.” He introduced in a friendly manner, holding out a hand.

Dan could see that Phil was clearly an avid guitar player, judging by his fingers. Everything about Phil had a unique aspect to it that he still couldn’t accurately describe. He was wearing a puffy silver coat with holes here and there, a product of years of wear-and-tear. His skinny jeans were as tattered as Dan’s were, and a simple graphic print t-shirt hung from his frame. Something about him was utterly captivating, and Dan riddled his brain trying to figure out what exactly it was.

“Dan,” he introduced in turn, gently shaking Phil’s hand before placing both hands firmly back on the steering wheel, letting out a sigh of relief he didn’t realise he was holding onto. “So where are you off to?”

Phil sank into his seat and placed his hands in his lap, his gaze firmly on the pitch black stretch of road in front of them.

“A thousand miles in any direction other than back.” He answered.

Dan’s lips twitched into a momentary smile. “Funny, that’s exactly where I was heading myself.”

\--

In the interest of continuing to screw over whatever ultimate life plan was in place for him, Dan pulled over ten or so minutes later and insisted for Phil to drive.

“You’re letting a complete stranger drive your car?” Phil asked quizzically, shrugging his coat tighter around his shoulders. The heating in the car was busted. As was the radio.

“You’re up,” Dan simply shrugged before they swapped sides, and Phil cautiously placed the keys back in the ignition and turned to face Dan, who was already looking out of the window, though nothing was yet able to be identified more than an opaque mass amongst the nothingness. Again, symbolic if he thought about it long enough.

“You’re sure about this?” Phil asked, biting his lip.

Dan shrugged again, not turning his attention away from the window.

Phil slammed on the accelerator.

\--

“I’m beat. Let’s stop for a while.” Phil’s statement was met with no disagreement as the car pulled into a service station car park, a small diner style building the only thing before them.

Once they were seated, Dan looked around, the only other customers looked less than happy to be there. A middle-aged man was asleep in a booth near the entrance, and a family of three looked the epitome of unimpressed as the father knocked back a can of beer in record time.

A woman, Dan estimated in her mid-forties, came to their table around five minutes after they arrived.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked monotonously. Grease clung to the pores on her face, makeup had shifted south, and her apron was grubby. Her hair was in messy braids that had practically fallen apart, and hung pathetically over her shoulders.

“I’ll just have a coffee and whatever food is easiest” Phil placed his order quicker than Dan thought, and the waitress nodded and turned to face Dan.

“And for you?” she asked, lips pressed firmly together.

“I’ll have the same.” He answered in panic, and heard Phil scoff from across the table.

The waitress nodded and made her escape, darting around the counter and into the kitchen.

“The same, huh?” Phil asked, picking at his fingernails, “How very original. You a fan of following the rules?”

“Clearly, that’s why I picked up a hitchhiker at two in the morning.” Dan snapped back, and Phil raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, mister sensitivity, my bad,” Phil held up his hands in surrender, and Dan gritted his teeth, not entirely sure if Phil was mocking him or not. “But care to tell me what was going through your mind when you decided to pick up a hitchhiker at two in the morning?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Does it really matter?”

Phil shrugged. “It’d be nice to know. I hadn’t encountered anyone willing to pick me up before you.”

“Does anything really matter, in the grand scheme of things? We’re all just pawns in some fucked up game anyway, it doesn’t matter what we do.” Dan was reeling off his thoughts by this point.

Phil placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “Ah, classic existentialism. Truly a man after my own heart.”

“Do you ever get off your high horse?” Dan asked, the question biting at him. Though he did envy Phil’s casual approach to everything. He envied it a lot.

Phil smiled. “Not when riding saddle is so damn comfortable.” He winked. Dan cringed.

\--

“So tell me about yourself” Phil requested once their food had arrived – two servings of greasy scrambled eggs on questionable toast. Dan was sure he cut off a piece of mould.

“Why do you care?” Dan asked. Nobody had ever really cared enough before, though there was a part of him that was just itching to know more about the guy sat opposite him.

“We still have a thousand miles to go,” Phil reminded him, “It’d be nice to, you know, not be sat in silence all that time, considering we don’t have any other form of entertainment.”

“I’m not a very interesting person.” Dan excused so he wouldn’t have to elaborate, and Phil rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, “Just give me one little fact. Who really is the mysterious Dan that let me into his car at two in the morning? Let’s open him up.”

Dan could tell Phil was teasing him slightly.

“Fine. I’m very glad you’re not a serial killer.”

“How could you possibly know that? You know barely anything about me” Phil tried to sound menacing, but the fact that he dropped the salt shaker into his food as he spoke broke that façade immediately.

“I have my reasons” Dan replied, taking a small bite of a piece of the toast that he hoped wasn’t contaminated.

“But _you_ could still be a serial killer, for all I know” Phil stated in amusement, twirling his fork around in his food. “Considering you won’t tell me anything about you.”

“I feel insignificant in the world, like I’ll never achieve anything and that I don’t mean anything to anyone,” Dan was finally admitting it to himself, never mind to Phil.

“Aw, same,” Phil continued to swirl his food around on his plate. “And we will work fine on that basis.”

“At least you have something to strive for,” Dan mumbled, though loud enough for Phil to hear, “You can at least try to have an impact on people with your music.”

Dan noticed Phil frown for a couple of seconds before calling the waitress over for the bill.

\--

“And tell me why exactly I paid for both meals?” Dan asked as they got back inside the car, Phil still driving. Dan felt slightly anxious at being down one pound note, at this rate he wouldn’t have any money for anything else. Story of his life.

“Dan, remember how we met? Do you really think I have any money on me?” Phil replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world – Dan supposed it was. If Phil had money he could’ve at least caught the bus or something.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Phil started up the car. “Well, onward we go” he announced before setting off, back on the dark, winding road to a destination none of them knew. Or cared.

“So tell me more about you, man of mystery” Phil prompted, trying again. The silence was, Dan agreed, becoming almost too much to bear.

“I told you, I’m not very interesting.” Dan replied flippantly, and Phil chuckled.

“You know, one of these times, I’ll get a different answer out of you” he stated in amusement, eyes fixated on the road in front of them.

Dan rested his head against the window and huddled into himself.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer me, but…” with the way that Phil stopped himself mid-sentence, Dan could tell he had been thinking about it for a while, “What brings you all the way out here? It’s not like there’s anything of interest here.”

Dan contemplated the question. Would the truth sound too pathetic? Probably. But in a weird way, he felt like he could trust Phil, despite knowing him for such a short amount of time. Perhaps it was due to the fact nobody had ever asked Dan such questions, prompted him to spill his thoughts, but he felt like he could say anything.

“I just wanted a change” Dan answered, vague but true, and Phil pressed his lips together. “But what about you? How did you end up here? It’s a long way from the nearest town and we haven’t passed another vehicle.”

“I wanted a change too,” Phil said, hands clutching the steering wheel that much tighter, “I just might not have gone the best way about it.”

“Well at least we can bond over the fact we’re both fuck-ups” Dan found it in himself to crack a joke, build rapport, and a metaphorical weight he didn’t realise he was carrying was lifted when Phil shared the laugh.

“Hitting the nail on the head, there” he nodded.

\--

Dan had no idea how long they’d been driving for when Phil pulled into the lay-by. Or how they hadn’t ran out of petrol. In the pitch darkness everything looked the same as they drove, the road was long and winding, the trees loomed over them, almost intimidating, occasional jokes being made.

“Here we are, a thousand miles in the opposite direction” Phil announced as he lifted his hands from the steering wheel and leaned back against his seat.

“Is it a good change for you?” Dan asked, asking both Phil and himself, referencing their previous conversation.

“Hard to tell,” Phil answered, cracking his fingers to eliminate any numbness, “I’ve been in a lot of cars, not entirely impulsive.”

In another example of ‘living in the moment’, Dan got out of the car and scrambled onto the bonnet (thankfully Phil had left the headlights on). He leaned his back against the window and placed his arms behind his head.

“What are you doing?” Phil asked, still inside the car.

Dan didn’t answer, knowing he probably wouldn’t be heard anyway, and he smiled slightly as he heard the driver’s side door open and close, and he scooted to the side a little so Phil could climb alongside him.

“Did you ever think you’d be sitting on your car bonnet staring at the stars with a hitchhiker you met at two in the morning?” Phil asked with a soft chuckle.

“I didn’t think I’d ever leave my hometown years ago, never mind go on a long drive and pick up someone who could’ve murdered me if he had the mentality.”

Phil laughed.

“Did you ever think that everything would be simple, like in life? Meet a nice girl, have a kid or two, have a house, have a dog, have a job…” Dan bit his lip, he was uncovering some truths about himself without intending to. The words kind of just slipped out.

“Yep.” Phil ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. “But I’ve never been one to live up to standards people expect.”

“Pushy parents too?” Dan dared to ask, and the question lingered in the air for a few seconds, and Dan heard Phil sigh.

“Pushy, homophobic, generally disapproving… am I painting a clear enough picture here?” he turned to face Dan for a moment, though his view was mostly obstructed by the darkness that wouldn’t be shifting for at least an hour.

“I’m sorry,” Dan gulped, not knowing what the right thing to say was. “Is that why you were…”

“No,” Phil answered bluntly. “But it didn’t help. I’ve been living by myself for a few years now, but when you turn twenty-nine and still aren’t any closer to settling down, they started getting antsy, so I told them.”

“You’re twenty-nine?” Dan asked without thinking, and Phil laughed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he nudged Dan’s arm, a playful gesture, “But long story short, they didn’t approve. Of anything. Called me a disappointment, told me I was wasting my life with music, told me never to contact them again until I, and I quote, fixed myself.”

Dan heard himself gasp. He was eternally thankful that his coming out at age seventeen had gone flawlessly. He wished Phil could have had it the same way.

“Fuck, Phil, I’m so sorry” Phil waved off his concern.

“Don’t be. I’m a big boy, I can handle it. But once everything went to shit, I told myself I was going to have one last thrill before I packed music in and started trying to settle down.”

“So you do want the nuclear family sort of life?” Dan inquired, feeling more curious than ever. Getting to know Phil was more rewarding than he would have thought. He was fascinated.

“I just want a life. To feel like I’m doing something.” Phil replied with a bitter chuckle. Dan could relate immensely.

“Considering this is your ‘last thrill’”, Dan was sure to use air quotes, “Could I maybe hear you play?” he found himself hopeful of a positive response.

He heard Phil sigh, then mumble something to himself, and the car tilted slightly as Phil slid off the bonnet. Dan already missed his company. He felt like they were properly bonding, and he could feel his own life worries bubbling up inside him, ready to be spilled. The whole conversation was therapeutic, refreshing in a way.

He heard one of the back doors open, something pulled across fabric, then the door close again. Seconds later Phil was back on the bonnet, this time something on his lap. Dan could make out the shape of Phil’s guitar case. He had almost forgotten it was there.

He felt excitement build up in him as Phil fiddled with the latches, a childlike wonderment at being able to see someone play an instrument just for him.

The case swung open, and Phil retrieved what was inside. Dan was waiting for the sweet sounds of a guitar, but instead a warm can was pushed into his hand. He dangled it in front of the headlight for a second to see what it was, and identified it as a can of cheap beer.

“As you said earlier, fuck-up.” Was all Phil said before lightly clinking his can against Dan’s, and took a sip.

“But-“

“I had to sell it. I’m broke, Dan. I’m not running only from my parents’ judgment.”

Again, Dan could relate. The nest egg his grandparents put away for him when he was born was nearly empty, it all went towards his bills, it was wearing dangerously thin. He could last a couple of months at most. Symbolism seemed to follow him around.

“Something I know all too well” he sighed, and immediately got Phil’s attention. Dan supposed it was his turn. In a way, he felt ready.

“I’m the disappointment in the family. My sister is two years younger than me and she has the life my parents set out for me. Happily married with kids, pretty much all that you described before. But what did I end up being? The failure son who dropped out of university, can’t afford anything more expensive than microwave pizzas, and has literally no friends. Let’s just say I’m not their top priority. Not even in the top ten. Top thirty, even. My grandparents visited me last summer, that’s the last time I saw any of them.”

Phil placed a hand on Dan’s knee, Dan reckoned as a sign of comfort, and he watched as Phil took a long swig from his beer can.

“Hurts, doesn’t it, when they don’t care? Like an emotional scar.”  

“Sometimes it almost feels like it burns, minus the physical pain. Particularly when I’m trying to sleep, everything kind of just replays in my head and I can just see their faces when I let them down time and time again. Do you know where I’m coming from?” Dan wanted to make sure he wasn’t going off on a tangent, it seemed that he and Phil had a fair amount in common, and it was a weird thing to have someone willing to listen to him for once.

“I think we both know the answer to that” Phil nudged Dan’s arm again, and it made the brunet smile.

“I just feel like everything has been mapped out for me, since I couldn’t go the conventional route of marrying a girl and having kids the old fashioned way, it seemed as if the universe was coercing me into a dead-end career and a mundane life, so I dropped out of uni. Now, it feels as if I’m almost being forced into doing everything I despise, and it feels as if I don’t have a choice or control over anything.”

“So you ran away?” Phil asked, and Dan nodded.

“Technically drove away, but yeah, same principle. I just wanted to prove to myself that I had some control over my own life.”

“Well, handing over your car keys to a hitchhiker is certainly a way to do that” Phil laughed.

Out of his peripheral vision, Dan noticed Phil shiver, his shadow flickering as a result in the headlights in front of them. It had gotten notably chillier.

“One sec” Dan excused himself and slid off the bonnet, going around to the boot of the car and retrieving two hoodies, one his own and one belonging to an ex-boyfriend.

Once he climbed back up, he dropped one into Phil’s lap and slipped his own hoodie over his body, immediately feeling happier from the warmth.

“I have a coat?” Phil pulled the sleeves of his coat over his hands to prove a point, causing some of the holes to widen. He cringed when he heard the tear.

“Yet you’re still shivering. Put the hoodie on, you’ll warm up in no time, I promise.”

Phil obeyed with no further objection. Dan heard a sigh of contentment come from the man beside him, and he watched in amusement as Phil snuggled into the hoodie.

“I’m sorry if I came off as an arrogant prick when we first met. When you pulled up and let me in I was going to completely reinvent myself, put on a persona kind of, you know, in the spirit of it being my last thrill and all.”

“You didn’t,” Dan assured him, “Well, with the exception of the saddle comment in the diner, maybe. But apart from that you just came off as moody, really.” Dan was slightly teasing, and this time nudged Phil’s arm.

“Then that makes two of us” Phil turned to face him again, and they shared a smile.

“I wasn’t putting on a persona, that’s just me. I proved it in the diner, I’ve been nothing but consistent” Dan shrugged, and Phil laughed.

“Believe me, I more than know that by this point.”

They finished their drinks whilst discussing everything, existentialism, the universe, their families, their pasts.

“I sometimes wonder that if our lives really are mapped out, why do we have to suffer?” Dan pondered as they both looked up at the stars, which were out in full force.

“To prove that we’re worthy to be living,” Phil answered, “We’re just getting our suffering out of the way early, something special must be in store for us.”

Dan’s lips twitched upwards into a momentary smile.

“Does it even really matter, though? We’re all going to die anyway. It’s inevitable.”

“I’ve missed your pessimism, it hasn’t made an appearance for quite a while” Phil stated, earning a soft chuckle from beside him.

Dan snuggled further into his hoodie as his thoughts began clouding his mind, and the hope he had from a few seconds before had now dissolved into doubt and fear.

“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” he knew he sounded like a child, but sometimes he just didn’t know, it didn’t feel like it. But he had a strange amount of faith in what Phil had said, despite what his own anxiety and self-deprecation tried to trick him into believing.

He gasped softly as he felt Phil’s hand on top of his own, and laced their fingers together loosely.

“You know, I have a funny feeling we will be, in the end.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic i've written that doesn't focus on romance, so hopefully you enjoyed the change :)
> 
> As always, leave a kudos if you liked it, share it around, and let me know your feedback!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr (cafephan) and twitter (bloggerhowell) and subscribe to me on here to get email updates whenever I post a new work!
> 
> xx


End file.
